


Alexander's Fears

by FlickerInTheDark



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Father issues, Fear, first time dad, parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-04
Updated: 2016-08-04
Packaged: 2018-07-29 06:27:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7673572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlickerInTheDark/pseuds/FlickerInTheDark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hamilton and his wife Eliza have a talk about Alexander's fears for his son. One-shot</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alexander's Fears

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick one-shot. I have fallen in love with Hamilton and wanted to write a quick little story. This really has no point other then being an angst filled conversation between the cutest couple ever. Enjoy!

It was on a warm night in mid-August, and everyone in New York was asleep except Alexander Hamilton. Eliza had been sleeping on and off. Alexander tossed and turned and Eliza was very much done with this.

"Alexander," she said, "I am afraid you are making me black and blue with all of your thrashing about."

Alexander was startled, he had not meant to awaken or disturb his beloved, and whispered: "I am sorry love."

"I may have to sleep in the guest room," she said with a smirk.

"I wouldn't want that," he said.

"What is keeping you up dear?" she said turning to him.

"Thinking," he said.

"About? If I didn't know better I would think you are writing another of your Federalists papers or some article for the paper," she said matter-of-factly.

"No," he said.

"Oh, really? I have never known you to have a hard time sleeping unless it was to do with some piece of writing," she said.

In the darkness, he shifted and got out of bed. He went to the window and opened the drapes. In the flooded moonlight, Eliza saw his back stiff, as if at attention to the moon. He looked out on the streets and saw no one. He stared intensely out as if looking for something or someone.

"Pray tell," she said.

"I was just thinking about the baby," he said.

"Philip? Why?" she asked. Philip was about 6 months old and was as happier than any baby. He smiled more and giggled more than any baby. Eliza remarked at what a good baby he was. She was not as concerned for him as she thought she would be. Most babies cry and were fussy but not Philip. Bright and happy like his father was when writing.

"I just worry," he said.

"I do too, but why does it keep you up?"

"I just worry. What if he gets sick and we cannot pay for medicine or perhaps he gets in a fight and I am not there," he said blankly. If this child was anything like him he worried, what would happen?

Eliza couldn't see his face but she heard his voice. Alexander always spoke with clarity and purpose. His voice was full of inflection most of the time but now his voice was hollow.

"Is this about Philip or you?" she asked.

"Philip. Why?" he said still not turning.

"Forgive me but, it sounds as though, you are channeling yourself out through our son," she said.

"Doubt?"

"Yes, I know you will find what I shall say to be a bit uncomfortable but I think that because you lost your father, you worry about how you will be a father," she said softly.

Alexander was silent. He knew she was right, but how did she know? His father left when he was ten and before that, his father was always away either drinking or gambling. Alexander rarely drank heavily and never gambled

"I just do not know my love. Being in court and defending these United States are far different than this domestic life with you, and our son," he said finally turning around.

She saw his eyes were filled with tears. She had never seen him near to tears. He had been quiet or reserved but never like this.

"Your father is not you. You are better then that. Look around at everything you have done!" she said kindly.

Alexander closed the curtains and the room was again black. He came back to bed and Eliza saw as her eyes adjusted, tears falling. He then turned and was lying on his side so he could see her. He felt weak, he had fought in a war, he had made it out of the West Indies but now was the moment he felt broken.

"I always worry if you and the baby have enough," he said, "I remember there were days when I was young when I had nothing more then a small crust of bread. I just do not want our son to go through what I had to on that wretched island!"

"I know. I also know, Philip will be fine. After everything you have done," she said touching his face. She felt his tears in the dark and felt his hand come up and hold it there.

"I worry what I am doing won't help. I am a bastard and people whisper about it, and I have done everything to hide that. I work endlessly to cover my past up so maybe, Philip can attend a good Christian school. I fear he may never be able to get a good education," he said.

"Philip will be happy, if you are there," she said simply.

"Philip is like the first thing that I have created that is pure. I just do not want anything to before my son," he said shifting to his back.

Just then crying came from the next room.

"Well, your son is crying. Why don't you go hold him for a bit? Perhaps you may feel that same pride and joy, the first time you held him," she offered. She usually was the one to get up, but at this hour she wanted to sleep and felt Alexander needed to be with his son.

Wordlessly, he got up, kissed her and went down the hall to the nursery. When he opened the door, he saw his son laying there crying. Alexander picked him up and saw Philip's tears. His son had a mass of hair and Alexander knew his son would grow up to be like him. He would take his pride and joy and sculpt him into the most influential and intelligent man in this new America.


End file.
